


Romeo and his Juliet

by Aerilon452



Category: Romeo Must Die (2000)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 02:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13448817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerilon452/pseuds/Aerilon452
Summary: Trish takes care of Han after they leave his father's house.





	Romeo and his Juliet

Trish had Han stretch out on her bed, his head on a pillow, and her sitting by his left side where she gingerly pulled his left hand into her lap. She slowly unwrapped the makeshift bandage he'd improvised during his fight before she'd found him. Trish didn’t know how Han had still been standing when she saw him walking down the stairs of his father's house, but she was grateful that he was. "Let me know when this hurts," she whispered looking at him. He nodded and then closed his eyes. 

Han nodded already fighting off the waves of searing pain bombarding his brain. Trish tending to his burned hands made him feel much better. She was trying to be careful as she removed the wrap from around his hand. The burned flesh caught in the fabric, it tugged, and he nearly cried out. As it was he couldn't keep his hand from shaking, which Trish noticed. That forced her to stop, resting her hands on his abdomen. On reflex his muscles tightened. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Trish asked quickly pulling her hands away. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him after what he, what they had been through. She was amazed that her hands weren't shaking more than they should be after she shot Mac off the roof of the Oakland Men’s Club. All Trish could remember of that moment was that she reacted when he was going to shoot Han. Pulling the trigger once was instinct, the second time had been payback for her father. 

Han shook his head, "I'm alright..." His voice came out in a breath, lighter than a whisper. He lifted his left hand, the knuckles of his fingers brushing her cheek lightly. "The bandage caught on my skin." Han told the truth. It wouldn't do him too much good if he lied about the extent of his injuries. "There isn't a way around causing me more pain." 

"That's the last thing I want." Trish folded her hands on her thigh. For a moment she wrestled with the urge to run, but she didn't. She stayed and took his left hand between hers again. This time, she was mindful of how fast the bandage was removed. The dead burned flesh peeled away no matter how careful she was, fresh blood dotted below the edges of skin that hadn't been burned away. Finally, the blue material came away leaving his hand blistered and bleeding to the open air. “Oh. Han, we should take you to the hospital.” 

“No,” Han shook his head. “It’s not that bad.” He sat up, looking down at his hands. All he needed was antibiotic ointment put on his burns, and then they would have to be wrapped. He'd deal with everything else later. Trish remained where she was, her hands still in her lap. "You won't hurt me," he said wanting so badly to reach out to her, to cup her cheek, to reassure her that it would all be alright. 

"Ok," Trish tried to keep her hands from shaking too much as she removed the antibiotics, the bandages, from the bag. She twisted off the cap, squeezing plenty of the ointment onto his red ravaged skin. Then, carefully, she began to wrap his hand, while paying even greater attention to his fingers. "Let me know if this is too tight." 

"You're doing fine." Han soothed her, knowing this was making her uncomfortable. He had to bite back a hiss of discomfort as the pain-relieving element of the antibiotic started to kick in. Natural instinct would have him balling his hand into a fist but with Trish wrapping his hands, he couldn't. All he could do was control his reactions, watch her, and hope that all of this was over. 

Trish finished wrapping his left hand, and then she carefully lifted it up, so she could place a kiss to the top of the bandage. "Does that hurt?" His reply was to grip her hand. She saw the wince of pain in his eyes, but he didn't let out one whimper. Trish admired his strength or was it just his ability to keep everything internalized. Han stretched his left arm out, opening for her to curl next to him. She went willingly, resting her head on his chest right above his heart. Her body was exhausted as well as her mind. Before too long, if she wasn’t careful, she’d fall asleep. 

Han was mindful of his newly bandaged hands as he held Trish. So much had happened to her in the last few days that he couldn’t help but feel responsible for some of it. Lightly, he kissed the top of her head reveling in the warm weight of her next to him. There was left for either of them to do tonight except to fall asleep. 

 

MORNING: 

 

Trish woke up with Han still slumbering next to her. Carefully she freed herself from his grasp and got out of bed to go to the kitchen. The phone rang making her jump, a small yelp escaped her. After last night she was going to be on edge for a while. Picking the phone up, she answered, “Hello.” 

“Trish, baby. It’s papa.” 

“Daddy?” Trish breathed a sigh of relief hearing his voice. “Are you ok? Do you want me to come to the hospital?” If she could manage it, she should try and get Han to the hospital, so a doctor could take a look at his hands. 

“No, the doctors say I’m going to be ok. My wound was non-fatal.” 

Trish could hear the question he wasn’t asking. “I’m ok, dad. After you were taken to the hospital, I went to look for Han.” After everything that happened, she wasn’t going to lie to her father. After a moment’s pause she added, “He’s fine, and he found out who killed his brother. Now we both know, and we can both start to heal from this.” She wasn’t going to say she forgave her father. His life was part of the reason Colin was dead. 

Back in the bedroom, Han opened his eyes with his hands throbbing in pain. There would be no way around it, he was going to have to go to an ER to get the burns looked at. Getting up carefully, the sound of Trish’s voice drew him down the hall and into the living room. He saw her on the phone. Han stopped to perch himself on the edge of the couch to watch her pace back and forth in small tight lines while she listened to the person on the other end of the phone. 

Trish turned to pace back to the counter when she noticed Han watching her. Instantly a smile came to her lips. “Dad, I’ll come see you in the hospital in a few hours. You’ll still be there?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. They won’t release me until tomorrow.” 

“Ok, I’ll see you later. I love you.” Trish replaced the phone and then went to Han. “Are you ok?” She asked brushing her fingers over the white bandage of his left hand. 

“I’m ok.” Han shrugged fighting against the throbbing of his hands. 

“I know you’re not,” Trish said bringing her hands up to cup his face. She could see the pain in his eyes. “Let me take you to the ER. I’m worried about your hands.” She was hoping he’d let her get him medical attention. 

Han had the split-second instinct to say no, but the burns to his hands needed to be attended to by professionals. Standing up, he wrapped his arms around her waist while her arms draped over his shoulders. “Ok.” She wanted to take care of him and he wanted to let her. 

Trish didn’t hold on to him for long. She left his warm embrace to retrieve her keys and her bag. Leading the way down the back steps, a small smile crossed her lips. Just a few days ago she watched him beat up three of the men who’d worked for her father. Her heart fluttered that day when she looked over the railing to see him smiling up at her. 

Han sat in the passenger seat of the SUV Trish borrowed from her father with his hands resting in his lap. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he tried to remain composed. He didn’t want Trish any more worried than she already was. The one thing he couldn’t stop was the shaking. Then, her hand was on his knee, squeezing gently; knowingly. Han touched the back of his bandaged hand to her fingers. “Don’t worry….” 

“I can’t help it,” Trish replied. She drove through the streets of Oakland to the hospital where her father was. Han could get medical attention and she could see her father. With the SUV parked, she walked with Han to the front desk, so he could get checked in. “I’m gonna go up and see my dad.” Trish said. 

“Ok,” Han nodded. He felt a little uneasy with her walking away, but the danger had passed, and they would be fine. Before she left him alone, she cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking lightly. “Go see your father.” Han whispered, placing a kiss to her palm. 

Trish dropped her hand, not really wanting to leave Han. There was a tight knot in her gut that wouldn’t ease up. She felt like there would be more danger if they were separated. Yet, somehow, she managed to make her feet carry her away towards the bank of elevators. She stepped in, her finger hitting the button for the fifth floor. The doors opened for her, and the first face she saw was her dad’s body guard, Switch. She walked right by him, he pushed the door open for her. After all, she was she Trish O’Day, her father’s daughter. Mac’s death proved that. “Hi, daddy.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Down in the ER waiting room, Han had kept his eyes moving, memorizing faces, assessing to see if they could be threatening or concealing weapons. He didn’t want to be caught by surprise. He didn’t want to be trapped with no way to get to Trish. She was his main thought, had been since she jumped in the back of the cab he was stealing. Well, when he wasn’t trying to find the man who killed his brother, he was thinking about her. She was a ray of light in the darkest of times.

“Mr. Sing.” 

Han looked up when his name was called. Without looking at anyone else, he got up, and went over to the where the woman stood, holding open a door with her foot. She led him back to where gurneys were set up, curtains were open showing which bay was vacant. The nurse directed him to sit on the first one they came to.

“It says on your intake form that your hands were burned. What happened?” The nurse asked.

“My hands were held down on a hot surface,” Han answered.

The nurse couldn’t control her grimace. Burned flesh was not something she would ever get used to. From inside the pocket of her scrub pants, she took out a pair of scissors, and cut away the bandages. Discarding the used gauze, she did a cursory exam, so she would know just what to tell the doctor. The burns were contained to the palm and fingers, but it looks to have been cleaned a treated promptly. “Ok, the doctor will be in shortly to talk to you.” And with that, she pulled the curtain. 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Upstairs, Trish sat beside her father while the TV was tuned to the news. She hardly heard what the newscaster was saying because she was thinking about Han down in the ER. As much as she wanted to be with her father, she wanted to be with Han more. Since Colin’s death, she hadn’t slept, but last night from the safety of Han’s arms, she had never slept so deeply. 

“Baby, you ok?” Isaac tried to gain his daughter’s attention. She was zoned out, but he had a sense of who she was thinking about. 

“What?” Trish shook her head, looking at her father.

“You’re thinking about Chu’s boy.” Isaac stated

Trish frowned. “His name is Han, daddy. You know that.” She knew why he’d said that. He was trying to get her to interact with him.

“Then, go be with Han,” Isaac said gently. 

“Are you sure?” Trish looked at her father, not knowing if this was some sort of test. Though, why that would be, she didn’t know. 

“I can tell your heart is already with him,” Isaac said. The look his daughter had, it was the same one he had for his wife before she died. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Han was just getting discharged when he saw Trish coming towards him. He hurried his pace, by passing the discharge desk, and going right into her open arms. A sigh of relief left him the moment their bodies touched. Like she had the previous night, her arms wrapped around him, and her hand cupped the back of his head. Heavily, his chin rested on her shoulder. All the poking and prodding the Doctor did to his hands had drained him of his strength.

“Are you ok?” Trish asked, caressing the back of his head.

“I’m ok,” Han replied, his voice belying how tired he’d become. Somehow, he found the energy he needed to stay on his feet. “How I your father?”

Trish pulled back, her hand cupping his face, “He’s ready to be discharged.” She laughed. Before he managed to get her to leave his hospital room, Trish was a witness to her father and doctor talking about when it would be safe for him to leave. The doctor had laid down the law, and her father was going to be hospitalized for the rest of the week just to be safe. “What about you? What’d the doctor say?”

“I have medicine to take and ointment to use,” Han replied.

“Ok,” Trish nodded, “let me take care of getting you discharged and we’ll head home.” 

Han leaned back against the wall to watch her talk with the young woman behind the desk. She was paying the cost of his ER visit. He tried to feel bad that she was covering him like this, but he knew that if he argued with her about it, she would put her foot down and do it anyway. He loved her enough to let her do this for him. That thought had Han straightening his posture. Love? Could it be that was what he was feeling after such a short amount of time?

Trish used her father’s card to pay for Han’s medical visit. She had reluctantly taken it from him before coming down to the ER. Her father was trying to make amends to her, to Han for what had happened on the streets. Before, she had been to proud to take any of his money. It was why she had opened her shop and made sure to distance herself from that world. But that all came crashing the moment she evaded Mo at the record store. The moment she got into the cab and met Han was the moment her life changed. Despite the death that surrounded them, he was the one bright spot.

“Alright, Ms. O’Day, the bill is all taken care of, and you two are good to go.” 

“Thank you,” Trish muttered, sliding her dad’s card into her back pocket. She smiled politely and then headed over to where Han was waiting. Side by side, they headed for the exit. No sooner were they outside, then her father’s black SUV pulled up, and his driver was getting out. 

“Ms. O’Day, you father wants me to drive you back to your residence, and I am at your disposal.” 

Trish wanted to tell him that she didn’t need him, but she looked at Han, and then at the other cars. So, she relented and got in the back of the SUV with Han sliding in next to her. After buckling in, she slouched down, resting her head on Han’s shoulder.

Han rested his cheek on top of her head, remembering what it was like to be chauffeured around. As a young boy, his father would have a car service take him and Po from place to place. Usually that was to school, and then back home after the day was over. He couldn’t say he particularly liked being driven around, even by Trish’s father’s driver. For her, he would quietly ride in the back seat with her. They were, after all, children of powerful men. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trish and Han had come back to her house after they left the hospital. For the next three hours, her father’s SUV had stayed parked outside. She was sitting on the couch, with Han stretched out, his head in her lap. The medication he’d been given had made him drowsy. Trish didn’t mind being his pillow, as it gave her a chance to watch him while he slept. He looked peaceful, and that was special after everything they’d been through.

Lightly, Trish caressed his brow, brushing back strands of his black hair. After knowing him for a few days, she already couldn’t imagine her life without him. They had this undeniable pull towards each other. She’d tried to assimilate into a normal life, but she could never quite make it. Sure, she had friends, and helped kids in the neighborhood, but she never had that sense of true belonging. Not until Han. He filled that void inside of her. “I think I love you, Han Sing,” Trish said gently, a smile curving her lips. 

Han had been lightly dozing, relishing the gentle touch of Trish’s hand on his face. He couldn’t remain passive any longer when he heard her whispered words. Opening his eyes, he saw her smiling face, and saw the true depth of her feelings for him reflected in her dark eyes. “I know I love you, Trish O’Day.” Reaching up, his bandaged hand rested against the back of her neck pulling her down, so he could kiss her for the first time. When their lips touched, it was the sweetest sensation he’d ever known, or would ever know again. He could never go home to China, but that didn’t matter to him. He had Trish, and she was his home.

And just like that, Romeo had found his Juliet.

THE END.


End file.
